Cyrene awoke with a start with her back firmly pressed against a tree, cursing herself for the fatigue. Her surroundings were pitch-black, and she knew she had been out too long already when she was supposed to be on watch.

Just as she turned to go wake Ahlvie to take over, a chill crept up her spine. She stilled, her eyes roaming the dark forest before her. She could feel someone was out there, but she found it hard to believe that the guards would venture back into the forest at night.

A low guttural growl told her that something, not someone, was stalking these woods.

Wolves?

She steeled herself against the rising panic. She could do nothing if she was immobilized by fear. She had to get to her friends and warn them of the danger.

Internalizing every ounce of preparation that Orden had tried to instill in her over the last couple of weeks, she crept like a wraith through the tree line and caught her first glimpse of the beast as she approached. With the forest obscuring the starlight, she could only attempt to ascertain the enormity of what lay before her. It stood taller than her, even while crouched on four legs.

Thankfully, it hadn’t seen her, and she wanted to keep it that way. Even if this was the only creature of its kind in the woods, she didn’t want to engage with it.

Breathlessly, she waited for the beast to pass out of her sight, and then she hurried to the edge of the clearing. When she saw what awaited her, her hand went reflexively to the sword at her side…not that it would do her much good.

Five more of the creatures filled the area. Their fur was as black as night while their eyes glowed yellow in the meager moon light. Their sharp claws curved out of their massive paws, and fangs the size of her forearm gleamed wickedly. They were not quite wolf or bear or leopard. Something more deadly, something…wrong.

Cyrene was thankful for the still night. No breeze to pick up her scent and send her to her death.

After an agonizingly slow minute, she reached her friends, still wrapped up in their blankets. Maelia slumbered lightly, her hand resting on her blade, poised for the ready. Ahlvie was covered from head to toe. Cyrene could only tell he was there because she had already known.

She bent down to wake them, but movement in the clearing held her still. The beasts were on the move. A low growl signified that one was dangerously close to her. She watched them fan out in a circle. Cyrene had never seen anything like it, and their behavior made her skin crawl.

When she turned back to check on Maelia and Ahlvie, a giant monster stood over them. Spit dripped from one vicious fang, as it was ready to devour its meal. It opened its powerful jaw, prepared to attack.

“Maelia!” Cyrene screamed in warning.

Her friend woke instantly, released her blade from its scabbard, and blocked the beast with such elegance that no one would have guessed she had just been asleep. Ahlvie scrambled out of his bedroll and reached for his weapon.

But the monster was already engaged with Maelia, and it growled its fury at being parted from its meal. Ahlvie tried to divert its attention, but the beast lunged for Maelia. She parried its blows, match for match. Her moves were graceful and precise but fiercely deadly. She ducked and rolled, lashing out at the tough fur, and she fended off the jaw that meant to crush her. She was panting from exhaustion when she finally landed an impressive killing strike. The monster fell to the ground in a pool of putrid black blood.

Ahlvie gagged at the sight of the dead animal. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Maelia answered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“There are at least five others,” Cyrene told them.

“Five?” Maelia gasped.

Ahlvie shook his head in disbelief and then assessed the body. His nose wrinkled as he poked the beast. “It almost looks like—”

“A wolf,” Maelia finished.

Cyrene shook her head. “Worse. They feel wrong.”

“Really wrong,” Ahlvie agreed. “We need to get out of here.”

“Now,” Cyrene said.

Maelia assessed the situation and then nodded. “Let’s get the horses and make a run for it. We can’t kill five more without backup.”

“The only backup in these woods are the blasted guards,” Ahlvie spat.

Maelia sharply eyed him. She seemed to be in her element. “They might be our only choice.”

Get caught by Byern guards, or get killed by monsters in the woods?

They didn’t have to make that decision because, at that moment, another creature appeared. Making its way toward Cyrene, it pounced. She screamed in terror, and on instinct, she raised her sword to meet the creature. Miraculously, the blade bit into the beast’s flesh. She gave it a thrust with all her might, and it drove through the creature, up to the hilt. Black blood gushed out of the dead animal. It smelled horrid as it covered her arms and coated her dress. The beast landed heavily, nearly on top of her, and Ahlvie shoved it aside to release her from its grip. She scrambled to her feet. Her hands were shaking as she tried to yank the blade out of the beast. When she had no luck, Ahlvie put his foot on the beast’s side and wrenched the blade free, handing it back to Cyrene.

Two more beasts appeared. Maelia and Ahlvie were a murderous lot, fighting off the two that had come at them, but nothing they did seemed to dissuade the monsters. They couldn’t keep this up, and the monsters knew it.

Cyrene rose to her feet and took a deep breath. Okay, I can do this. She could make her powers bend to her will. No matter how much time she spent reading the insufferable book or trying to make her powers emerge like they had when she killed the Braj, they had refused to budge. But this was life or death. They had to work this time.

Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what the book had said. She reached deep within herself, to the core of her magic. There, it supposedly lay dormant and untouched, ready to do her bidding. The faintest trickles, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, brushed against her. She tried to hold on to it, to do anything to help her friends, but it was like grasping at thin air. She released her breath in a loud gasp.

She could have torn apart the enemy with her anger at her own ineptitude. Just as she went to reach within herself again, a fang bit into her arm.

She went down hard on her knees. Her sword clattered to the ground at her feet, and fire seared her flesh. She couldn’t bite back her piercing shriek. Maelia broke from Ahlvie’s side and sliced through the beast that had attacked Cyrene. The thing dropped with a shuddering cry next to Maelia.

Cyrene’s arm was on fire. It felt like poison burning its way through her soft flesh, and she worried that the monster’s teeth carried venom, like the tip of a Braj’s blade. She shuddered at the thought, but she couldn’t do anything at the moment. Escape first, and assess my wounds later.

Maelia and Ahlvie hauled her to her feet, Ahlvie scooped up her sword and replaced it in its scabbard, and the pair ushered her toward the horses. Cyrene found her stride and started forward at a brisk run, leaving the dead beast behind them. They almost made it to the horses when nearly a dozen creatures attacked.

By the Creator! What can we do against a dozen when we barely survived three?

“Get the horses,” Ahlvie barked as he and Maelia engaged the first.

“I won’t leave you!” Cyrene yelled.

“Go!” he screamed.

“Ahlvie!”

“Go!”

He shoved her in that direction, and she wouldn’t gainsay his honor by denying him.

And so, she took off at a sprint. She had little hope that she could make it to Ceffy or that the horses would outpace these creatures. But she had to try.

Just as she was nearing their hidden location, she walked right into another pack of beasts and froze.

She was no warrior.

She didn’t even have control of her magic.

She was just a girl.

But she would not go down without fighting these mongrels. Her hand was shaky as she removed her sword once more. Despite her muscles screaming in pain, the sword felt lighter and steadier than ever before. It had to be her adrenaline. She was sure. Her body hummed to the tune of the battle, and she took a steadying breath. Underneath the animal’s yellow eyes, she saw a flicker of understanding about her movements.

She was ready.

“Come, beast,” she snarled.

The first one lunged for her but was struck down at her feet with an arrow through its menacing yellow eye.

A battle cry erupted behind her, and a woman soared through the air. She landed lightly on her feet with an ice-white blade in her hand that appeared to be an extension of her body. She was tall with pale, almost white, blonde hair. She wore fierce camouflage britches and a shirt that hugged her form. Her blade whirred through the air, slicing and cutting.

Cyrene was dimly aware that others had joined the battle, but her eyes were locked on the incredible movements of this woman who was unlike any woman she had ever seen. She had ethereal beauty yet a ferocious ability.

After what could have been minutes or hours, a spatter of dead creatures lay at the woman’s feet.

Cyrene whirled in place and found an even more gruesome display. More humans, unlike she had ever seen, fought the beasts. Their fighting style was delicate and precise. They looked like they were dancing rather than fighting, yet they were efficient in dispatching the creatures.

Cyrene couldn’t spare their saviors too much thought though. She had to get to the horses and save her friends. She took one unsteady step toward the horses and then sprinted. To her shock, the horses remained, unharmed, though they were in a frenzy from the commotion. She went to Ceffy’s side at once, but a scream stilled her steps.

With a resigned sigh, she untied the reins and hoisted her weary body onto Ceffy’s back. She heeled the horse in the direction of the scream, her steel blade withdrawn before her.

Just as she entered the clearing, a beast sank its teeth into the beautiful stranger’s side.

“No!” Cyrene screamed.

The beast jerked around, leaving the woman for death. It prowled toward Cyrene with ten more beasts on its heels. Ceffy reared up in horror at the unnatural creatures before them.

Cyrene held on for dear life. She was sure this was where it ended. They had come to kill, and they meant to see it to the end. She would need more than a blade to get out of this mess.

Cyrene steeled herself and then slid down Ceffy’s side. Cyrene knew that she should have run as far and as fast as she could. But it would not have been fast enough. Her sword sank into the dirt, as if in defeat. When she released her weapon, she imagined she saw a smirk on the monster’s face.

But it didn’t know that, in that moment, the odds turned.

As Cyrene recalled all that she had learned from her magic book, gold letters danced across her vision. She would not yield.

The gateway to her power opened with barely any effort. A dull ache hit her core as the well of energy intensified within her body. The ache grew as more and more power flooded her system, and she coughed and clutched her chest as it filled her to the brim. She doubled over and dug her hands into the fresh dirt. There was too much. The pain was raw. She couldn’t grasp control over it.

Creator!

It was as if she would suffocate from the intensity of it all. She couldn’t survive this—not the creatures and not the magical torrent taking over her body. Her ears were ringing, and she ground her teeth against the inexorable pain lashing out at her bones, scraping and tearing her from the inside out.

“Don’t,” cried out the ethereal woman lying at Cyrene’s feet.

Cyrene didn’t know what the woman meant. All she was aware of was the pain and that she had failed.

Her head tilted to the sky, and with a breath, the dam broke. Her power lashed out of her in a deafening boom, rushing over the monsters like a tidal wave. She heard a crash and saw a beast had dropped to the ground. Another one dropped. And another. Then, they all dropped.

Cyrene clawed tooth and nail across the ground toward the girl. She had no energy left, and darkness beckoned her, but this couldn’t all be for naught.

“Are you okay?” Cyrene croaked.

She reached out to touch the girl to try to offer some comfort.

“What are you?” the girl breathed.

Cyrene blacked out before she could answer.